35. Olivia

Chapter thirty-five

Olivia

O ver the next few days, Victor and I get used to our new relationship. Does this mean I’m his girlfriend or just his submissive? Is there a difference? I should have asked more questions when we were going over the contract. We went to his house on Tuesday and Wednesday night, but I asked him if we could come to my house tonight to do some gardening before going out of town this weekend.

Victor, Leo, Lane, Arden, and his friend Malachi are in the house going over something they were being very hush hush about. I’m almost positive it has to do with Donovan, but didn’t ask questions. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. Even if Victor isn’t my boyfriend, he has my best interests at heart and he will do everything within his power to keep me safe.

There’s no telling how much he pays Lane and Arden to watch me like they do. I’m pretty sure one of them will be coming to Atlanta this weekend too. I’m curious if it will be both of them or one because I’m beginning to believe Leo’s theory that Arden is a vampire. Not only does he not like the daytime, but I’ve never seen him eat. Even the night we all had dinner together, he said he wasn’t hungry. All he did was drink red wine.

I furrow my brows. Was it red wine though? Maybe Victor is keeping his secrets. Chuckling to myself at how quickly my thoughts have escalated, I dig out a stubborn weed. It’s liberating not having a tight bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach constantly. A weightlessness settles in my bones as I realize it’s been a couple of days since I looked over my shoulder. Lifting my face to the sky and taking in a deep breath, it’s like breathing for the first time.

“Olivia?” I look over my shoulder at Victor.

“Hi,” I greet him and stand from where I’m sitting cross-legged on the ground.

“I really wanted to kiss you just now, but didn’t want to scare you,” he says.

Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I take a step toward him to let him know he’s welcome to kiss me. He cups my face with both of his hands and kisses me. The cold steel of his ring reminding me of the inscription on the inside of it. I didn’t realize then how big I’d love him one day.

The kiss begins softly, but soon he’s wrapping one arm around my waist and the other grips the back of my neck. I meet his tongue with mine and arch against him. My nipples harden as he presses me even tighter against him. Need settles in my core and I don’t know what to do. He pulls away gently, rests his forehead against mine, and stares into my eyes.

“You are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, treasure.” His voice is deep and sultry. He licks my top lip, surprising me. “I want to kiss your scars.” I swallow, wondering if he’s talking about doing it right now. “Yes, I’m going to do it right now and you’re going to let me.” He’s not asking. He’s telling me. I nod.

I can say my safe word at any time and he’ll stop. I trust him; he’s not doing this to humiliate me or upset me. “Okay,” I finally whisper. He wraps his hand around my hair and pulls, so my head leans back. It doesn’t hurt, but does sting slightly. “Sorry. Yes, Sir.”

We discussed how he could correct me when I didn’t do something right and that is what we settled on. He didn’t want to do anything that would remind me of how Donovan would punish me.

“Good girl.” He releases my hair and massages my scalp with his fingers. “Everyone has left except Arden and he’s in the living room waiting for us to come back inside, so no one will see.”

“Yes, Sir.”

My heart is beating heavy in my chest because I have no idea what scars he’s talking about. When we got home, he asked me if I had shorts. I told him yes, so he instructed me to change into them and a tank top, then come out here and garden. I was nervous at first, but the shorts cover my scars unless I’m sitting down and even then they’re not visible unless someone is actually looking for them.

He kneels in front of me on the ground in his gray slacks, not caring if he gets dirt or grass stains on them. I stand in front of him, focusing on breathing and waiting. “Place your hands on my shoulders, treasure.” I follow his instructions, but realize how stiff I am. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, my tension fades away. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath.” I do as he says.

Victor’s hands land on my hips and my stomach flips. His fingers trail up to my waist and my breathing becomes erratic, but this time it’s from his touch and not from nerves. He pushes my tank top up slowly and a shiver runs up my spine as goosebumps break out along my skin. Relaxing further into his touch, I want more. His fingers drift over the bare skin of my midriff and I sway on my feet.

“Show me,” he says.

Opening my eyes to look at him, I see he’s staring up at me. My heart flutters and my stomach swoops like I’m on a roller coaster. This amazing, strong man is on his knees for me. As my nose begins to burn and emotion burns in my throat, I blink rapidly. Removing a hand from his shoulder, I push my shorts down slightly and point at the scars on my lower abdomen.

He leans forward and runs his lips along each one. One scar is long, and the other is about half the size. The one scar was two incisions, but when it healed, it turned into one large scar. I snap my eyes shut as he does what he did that day we went horseback riding. He takes his time running his lips along them, kisses them gently, then rubs his beard along my stomach. The overwhelming urge to scream at what I will never have rises within me. And all because of an abusive, narcissistic asshole. I swallow over and over again to ensure I won’t cry if I talk.

“I want to kill him,” I whisper. My voice is hoarse.

“Okay,” he replies, like it’s as simple as that. Maybe it is. “What are they from?” Shaking my head emphatically, I can’t tell him. No one knows. No one. He leans back to look at me closer. “Okay. I’ll give you a pass tonight, but you will tell me soon. Understand?”

I nod, trying to find my voice. “Yes, Sir.”

“Show me your other scars,” he says as he pulls my tank top down to cover my abdomen. Taking a deep breath, I turn my leg out, push my shorts up slightly and point to the several scars scattering the inside of one of my thighs. There are just as many on the other side. He looks from them back up to me. “They don’t look as bad as you had me believing. I think you’re more ashamed than anything.”

He’s right. It’s the shame that makes me hide my scars. It’s why I’m more concerned about hiding them than the one on my collarbone. My shoulders slump. “You’re right.”

He smiles at me, and my heart expands. “Show me the most recent one.”

Adjusting myself, I show him my other leg and point to the most recent one. The last time I did it was a couple of weeks before giving him the box. Victor leans forward and kisses it. My face grows hot and my stomach quivers at how close he is to my center. I suck in a breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He grins up at me, and I laugh. He leans forward to kiss the other scars, and when he rubs his bears along my inner thigh, I squeak.

Victor leans back and his grin has turned into a full on smile. I laugh again, and this time he moves his hands from my hips and grasps my ass. “Come here, gorgeous.”

He pushes on me and it takes my brain a second to catch on to what he wants me to do. I sit on his upper thighs, straddling him. His large hands don’t move. Loving how they feel, I drop my head back, smiling up at the sky. He pulls me until I’m flush against him. Gasping at his hardness, I have to fight the urge to not rock against him.

Leaning forward, he runs his lips from the base of my throat up to my chin and back down again. Shivering in response, I rock against him this time, loving how he feels and how he’s making this fun. He nips at my chin and I giggle.

“Happy looks good on you, Olivia.”

I pull my head back up and gaze at him with a smile on my face. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him with every ounce of emotion that’s flowing through my veins.